


Pick Your Poison

by TribeOfTheForsaken



Category: RWBY
Genre: Begging, Captive, Choking, Double Penetration, Forced Orgasm, Forced to Watch, Light Bondage, M/M, Non-Human Genitalia, Rape/Non-con Elements, Threesome - M/M/M, i'm told this pairing is called unfairgame
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:29:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27129271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TribeOfTheForsaken/pseuds/TribeOfTheForsaken
Summary: After the first day, it was assumed he had relapsed. They should have had more fate in him, if they had searched earlier, maybe they would have avoided all this.TL:DR, Tyrian captures both Qrow and Clover for 'interrogation'.
Relationships: Qrow Branwen/Clover Ebi, Qrow Branwen/Clover Ebi/Tyrian Callows, Qrow Branwen/Tyrian Callows, Tyrian Callows/Clover Ebi
Comments: 11
Kudos: 37





	Pick Your Poison

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ospreyx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ospreyx/gifts).



Qrow had been missing for three days.

After the first day, it was assumed he had relapsed. They should have had more fate in him, if they had searched earlier, maybe they would have avoided all this. After the second day, Ironwood had gotten worried, which meant it was time for everyone else to get worried. “He usually comes back by now if he’s just drinking.” He had said. By the third day, Ruby was a mess, and Yang was barely keeping the two of them together. The blonde’s disappointment and frustration turned to actual anger that their uncle had seemingly gone on a three-day bender.

They should have known better.

By the third day, they declared him missing. If he was hungover somewhere after a bender it was a big, neon symbol for him to come back to base. Ironwood hoped that Qrow would turn up, grumbling, stinking of a distillery but fine.

If he didn’t something was wrong- but it already felt like something was wrong. 

Clover sighed heavily, it was late when he came back to his apartment, throwing his keys into the bowl next to the door. He moved in the dark, knowing where everything is.

Gods, he hoped Qrow was okay. He wanted to be out there looking for him- but the kids were already spending their time looking for their mentor, and Ironwood had sent patrols out. He just didn’t know Qrow all that well to be able to figure out where he would have gone.

Damn it, he wished that he knew where he was, that maybe even he had been able to stop the elder vanishi-

* * *

Clover woke up, startled. His first thoughts were that his wrists were above him, he was on his knees. He was underground, it was the stale air that tipped him off-

He smells blood, the metallic scent heavy in the air.

“-Ebi doesn’t know shit, he’s just Ironwood’s errand boy!” He heard a familiar voice swear.

“Qrow?” he managed to push out, head throbbing. His head hurt, What the fuck happened? Where was he, where-

“Prince charming is awake.” A man was standing before him before he crouched down to eye level, dark hair, yellow eyes that seemed to glow slightly as they peered at his face. “Good afternoon, Captain, how did you sleep?”

"Get away from him!" The same voice growled as before, rough and raspy. The room was small, not that much bigger than a cell, a single light above them glowing white.

“Qrow?” Clover said again, tried to look around the man, who rolled his eyes, turning to the figure on the floor behind him. Clover spied the long metallic scorpion tail that seemed to float in the air, trailing after the man. Why was it metallic?

“That’s enough out of you.” The faunus tutted. “Remember that you lost your mouth privileges when you bit me, and I was being a gentleman.”

“Get  _ fucked _ -” and a muffled followed, Clover blinked, finally waking up completely.

Clover felt his stomach tighten, trying to look harder at Qrow as the Faunus moved away- seeming to be giving Clover a look. The floor was cold concrete, walls bare, a solid metal door on the opposite side. The spy was half bruised, cuts half-healed across his body. His undershirt was torn and bloody, arms behind him, on his knees and hunched over, looking like hell, looking deathly ill in the harsh white light. 

The shirt was the only thing he was wearing, a thin, filthy sheet the only thing separating Qrow's bare lower half from the cold. Clover felt his mouth dry, his aura sparking around his wrists where he pulled hard at his bindings. “What have you done to him?” 

The man tilted his head, studying his reaction with a smile. “How rude, not letting me introduce myself. My name is Tyrian Callows. I'm already acquainted with the little bird here.” He said, tugging Qrow’s hair. Red eyes glared, biting down on the fabric gag. It occurred to Clover that his face had remained untouched from any bruising or cuts. "And I think you know exactly what I've done. You have two working eyes after all."

Qrow wouldn't look at Clover, looking everywhere but at Clover.

"Qrow’s just a little too stubborn." Tyrian said. Tyrian moved, tugging Qrow along by his hair. Qrow had no choice but to follow or be dragged towards where Clover was tied, but he didn’t manage to get to his feet before Tyrian was shoving him to the ground. Clover felt his heart in his throat when Qrow squirmed, rolling his shoulders to try and get out from under him, but his arms were tied tightly behind his back- he could do nothing about how exposed he was as Tyrian pushed his palm up and under Qrow’s ruined shirt, drawing a gasp out of him, Tyrian hummed in delight at the reaction.

Clover felt his stomach knot shamefully. “Stop touching him.” He growled. Clover’s fists were already balled, but now he felt his fingernails begin to dig into his palms. Tyrian  _ giggled _ , deranged and high pitched. To show how completely powerless Clover was- Tyrian brought his other hand between Qrow’s legs and squeezed.

Qrow snarled through the gag, knee bending lightning fast and tried to kick Tyrian's face- the silver tail like a third arm wrapped around his calve and lifted him up until only his arms and shoulders remained to the ground. Clover didn’t want to look, but he couldn’t look away.

“He’s got that old Ozpin spy training, makes me wonder what that training exactly entails.” Tyrian looked down to Qrow, who looked to be wishing with everything he had that he would catch a light from his gaze alone. “Oz seemed to have taught Qrow not to have  _ manners. _ ”

“You on the other hand. Leader of the Ace Operatives, You’ve been working closely with Qrow for the last few months, have you not? And being Iron Jimmy’s go to soldier, I’m sure you know  _ something  _ useful.” he drawled. The playful look vanished, replaced with something that was nearly sane. “Where are all those supplies going that are meant for Mantle’s wall?”

It really dawned to Clover that he had no idea what was going on, who this man was, and what the fuck was happening. But he wasn't naive. Tyrian didn't need to say aloud the consequences of not speaking. 

Tyrian stood, the ace op felt a sigh of relief escape him that the scorpion was leaving Qrow alone, unveiling his tail from Qrow's leg. The elder rolled to his stomach, trying to get back up to his knees.

“I don’t know what you mean.” He said, trying not the falter as Tyrian crouched before him, spine curled and tail- he hadn't noticed the ominous purple glow, the wicked curve and needle stinger that caught the light. He ignored it being brought under his chin, feeling the faintest trace of the point. That thing could kill someone in seconds if given the chance, and that wasn't counting whatever that purple substance was. “The supply runs have been getting attacked by grimm."

"Pfft, right. Grim don't go after supply runs if it's just the tinmen piloting the trucks." Tyrian said. "Unless you're under recording death rates of these supposed attacks- want to try that again, Cloves?"

Clover wasn't a spy, he was a soldier. He led teams, he took orders and gave them. He adapted well to all manner of situations. This? He was woefully under prepared for. The pleading look from Qrow, begging Clover with his eyes to not say a word.

Qrow had already been here for three days, Tryian had already taken his clothes and hurt him and- Qrow was gagged. Meaning that Tyrian wasn't banking on Qrow to give in to the questions, but hoping  _ Clover _ would. Qrow couldn't be asking Clover to let this  _ continue _ , did he?

It was why Clover was here in the first place he realized. Qrow wasn't talking. But Clover might if it meant sparing Qrow anymore pain. He swallowed hard. But he couldn't tell Tyrian about Amity. Not of the communications tower or what it would mean for remnant's future.

He said nothing, feeling his heart hard in his chest. Tyrian’s grin grew wide, the white flash of teeth set him on edge, thinking of the colourful bruises on Qrow's neck.

"Are you sure there isn't anything you want to tell me, Captain?" He hums.  _ Last chance. _ Clover knows without him saying.

He continues to keep his mouth shut as Tyrian walks back to Qrow, Clover has no room to get to his feet, wrists twisting in his binds as he tries to pull with his entire body.

Tyrian adjusts Qrow like he's a ragdoll, legs kicking, still kicking after three days of this, still fighting because Qrow would fight until he could barely stand and then keep going. It was something he admired, was in awe of how much fire still burned inside the huntsman.

He swallowed hard, a tail wrapping around Qrow's leg to stop him moving. Tyrian's body faced towards Clover, Qrow on his back, giving him a view of everything and watching Tyrian tease Qrow's entrance with his already hard-

Clover’s brain crashed to a halt- eyes finally registering what had just sprung out of the scorpion's pants. It was purple- was he wearing a strap on-? No. He could see it still growing in length in the faunus’s hand-

_ ohgodthat’shisactualdick _

Seeing Qrow squirm and instinctively try and close his legs made Clover tug at his bindings once more, knowing what was coming, wishing desperately he was strong enough to break away. He couldn't stop staring at it, watching Tyrian stroke himself, thumb sliding down  _ ridges.  _ "Well?" Tyrian asked. Not pausing, Clover blinked rapidly.

"I don't know anything," Clover said hoarsely. He saw the slightest of nods from Qrow, confirmation that he did the right thing even if his lips were tight on the gag, and his brow furrowed. Tyrian wasn’t looking at Qrow, not seeing his expression, rolling his eyes at Clover’s bold faced lie.

In one single movement, he was inside Qrow. At the same time Clover screamed out, horrified that Tyrian had not prepared him. But Qrow's back arched, a drawn-out moan filled the room, eyes rolling back until there was only white. Tyrian giggled at the reaction and the forgotten bravado.

How… how many times had he abused Qrow, stretched him, forced that purple  _ thing _ in him for it to be so easy to enter him now? He felt himself go red at the thought.

Qrow's whines were high pitched, forced out of him with every hard thrust. Gods, he had imagined what Qrow would sound like getting fucked, how he daydreamed about whisking the older huntsman to a supply closet and claiming him as his own.

He had thought Qrow was just in Mantle getting wasted, he wished that was the case, that he would be waking up to a call they had found Qrow passed out on a rooftop having drained a block's worth of bars dry.

There would have been disappointment, but Qrow would have been safe at the academy. He would have walked the walk of shame the next day, hung over but safe. He would have to face his nieces  _ but he would have been safe. _

Tyrian’ hands fit perfectly over the blotching bruises on Qrow's hips. He couldn't stop watching Qrow, how he was focusing somewhere to the side, biting his lip, wincing but not saying a word as the weight bored down on his shoulders as the faunus lifted himself and Qrow up higher, quickened his pace. He wasn't sure if Qrow was able to ignore it if it was from the days of this, or he already knew how to tune it all out. 

_ Ozpin's training.  _ Tyrian had said. Clover knew nothing about the deceased headmaster, the old imortal that Qrow spied for until the Fall. 

A shocked, strangled yelp diminished from the gag made Clover wince, Tyrian grinned, readjusting so he could slam at that spot again.

If he talked. Then Qrow suffered for nothing. If he talked Amity would be doomed. 

But he wasn't Qrow, he couldn't tune out the muffled cries, the harsh panting as the Faunus worked, rolling his head back, his own opened mouthed moans breathy and loud. Qrow… he watched the elder writhe in what can only be described as pleasure. Either as a survival tactic or something he refused to believe.

Clover could imagine for a moment that Qrow was enjoying this. He thought of his daydreams, wanting to leave bruises, suck marks into that pale skin and claim it as his own, feeling Qrow against him, thin but strong fingers trailing down to Clover's-

He felt his face go red again. He couldn't hide his shame, feeling his pants tightened. He hoped that neither of them would notice. He already hated himself for reacting as if he was watching porn for fucks sake. He loved the idea of having Qrow to himself, hidden away in his quarters, rope and gags and toys and Qrow begging for more and Clover giving him everything he wanted.

But tonight, he is not lucky. Tyrian began to grin, his face near splitting in two.

"You're  _ really _ enjoying the show." He said. He released Qrow, pulling out with an obscene pop of flesh. Qrow seemed to scream, breathing heavy, barely moving after he rolled to his side for some form of relief- Clover got a face full of what the scorpion was packing. He had heard in passing that some Faunus had genitals closer to animal than human, he had chalked it up to a racist rumour.

It seemed to have darkened in colour with how slick and hard he was. The head curved into a tip, wondering if his tail was modeled after it- or his tail had looked similar when it was flesh- it thickened to the base. It dripped heavily, the smell of precum thick in the air.

Clover felt the hand on his ass before Tyrian touched his clothed erection, Clover bit his lip, grunting but not speaking, trying to be as determined as Qrow. "I think I can even feel a bit of a wet patch."

He jerked back, feeling the hand leave him- Only for it to be replaced with the curve of the stinger, cold even through the fabric. He sucked in a harsh breath, eyeing the needle as the tail slowly rubbed against him, pressing down.

"Do you like that, Captain? Or are you not interested in  _ me _ ?" He didn't like the low tone, and felt the tail pull away. He felt his belly uncoil at the retreat, not knowing he was holding his breath until he released it, shuddering for air. The amused smile never leaving Tyrian's face.

"How about you be a  _ part  _ of the show?" 

Clover stared, looking for the punchline but found nothing but that smile.

"You're  _ insane _ if you think I'll agree-" he snarled.

"I think you will." He said matter of factly. His tail flicking behind him, striking the ground barely an inch from Qrow's nose. Qrow flinched hard. "Qrow is useless to my mistress if he's not going to sing. But he still has some value to  _ me _ . I have you now, I don’t need him alive.”

His heart continued to race. He had to be bluffing, but could not gamble Qrow’s life on a bluff. “Fine.” he murmured.

“Sorry, I didn’t quite catch that.”

“I’ll join you.” he snapped.

"I am about to free you. If you try and fight me, well. I'm sure you can figure it out." He flicked his tail again.

Tyrian's hands disappeared above him, a soft beep of something before he walked back to Qrow, yanking him up into a sitting position, resting behind him and arms snaked around him, a short gasp escaped pink lips and Clover could only assume Tyrian had slid back inside, gravity keeping him in place.

The threat was as silent as the metallic stringer that trailed up a bruised thigh. Another beep, and a hiss of his bindings coming free. His arms dropped, muscles straining, shoulders aching from the position he must have been kept in for however long he was knocked out for. 

"Strip, and make it  _ alluring  _ for us."

Clover wrinkled his nose in disgust, but pressed his expression down. He wouldn't bring his eyes up to look at the scorpion. He bent down to untie his boots, standing and kicking them off somewhere to his side. He heard Tyrian tut again, Clover looked up to see he had tightened his grip on the slender neck. Qrow tried not to react, but he flinched all the same. Warning.

He couldn't risk him hurting Qrow further. Clover moved to his gloves, unwrapping the leather with his teeth, glaring forward. The Faunus grinned, watching intently. 

He pretended he and Qrow were in a bedroom, that Tyrian wasn't there. His weapons belt was already gone. Unbuttoning his vest and sliding his hand through the fold and flicking it open, letting it fall to the ground. 

"Don't look away, Qrow." He heard Tyrian say, and a whine from Qrow made his eyes move to look at them. One hand was wrapped around Qrow's cock, thumb stroking the slit, the other gripped at his chin to keep him facing forward.

His buckle was next, slipping leather from his hips, before he could discard it to the pile Tyrian pushed Qrow forward and off his lap, following him with his hips to keep himself inside the huntsman. Qrow had no way to stop himself face planting into the concrete, Tyrian pulled him off his knees, giving him no leverage or ability to pull away.

"Give me your belt." Tyrian ordered. Clover did what he was told and took a single step forward, passing it to their captor. He thought of throwing it. He thought of using it to subdue the tail- he could deal with Tyrian hand to hand if he didn't have that needle of death hanging over his shoulder.

But he couldn’t risk it. Tonight had proven luck was not on his side.

Tyrian looped it, bringing it over Qrow's head- Clover wished he didn't see the glint of absolute fear as Qrow followed the belt with his eyes until it was under his chin. Tyrian undid the bindings that kept Qrow's arms behind him, arms springing free, boneless like they hadn't been untied in days. The scorpion tugged tight and yanked with no warning, pulling Qrow back up into his lap. His yelp cut off as his windpipe was snapped closed, Qrow was breathing hard through his nose, eyelashes flickering. Tyrian grinded his hips, drawing out a whine, eyes watering from lack of oxygen, from  _ everything _ .

"I didn't tell you to stop." 

"He can't breathe." Clover said, not letting his panic rise, Qrow desperately clawed at the belt around his neck.

"That's the point, boy scout." He said. The way he used Qrow’s nicknames for him set him on edge. He had to have been watching them.

"Take the gag out. Let him breathe."

"Ohhh, giving orders?"

“Don’t think you know that if someone can’t breath they’ll die.” He growled, trying not to sound mocking because the scorpion had already proven to be spiteful. “If you kill Qrow I promise you’ll get nothing out of me.”

Tyrian stared at the Captain, fascinated, before digging two fingers into Qrow’s mouth and wrenched the soaked fabric out of his jaw. Qrow coughed hard, drooling and swallowing- the belt loosened. It was only then that Clover noticed the gag was a pair of black underwear.

"Won't. Get info. Out of me.  _ Alive _ either." Qrow wheezed, still gasping for breath. Tyrian brushed a thumb over Qrow’s lips, his chin, gathering saliva to wipe it away in an almost tender gesture.

Qrow snapped his teeth together, Tyrian pulled his hand away like one would when their limbs were in reach of a crocodile.

"We'll see." Their captor glared. Clover had to restart his mind as yellow eyes turned sharply back to him. He gingerly unzipping his uniform, he hummed, desperate to hide his own moan as he freed himself. "Stroke yourself." Came the order.

He was half hard. He suppressed the shake in his hand as he took himself in his palm. Qrow was staring, watching him stroke himself and he felt his face heat up again, down his neck to his shoulders. He was having difficulty coaxing himself, he would have loved to have put a show on for Qrow, but only Qrow.

Tyrian stroked Qrow in time with Clover's own.

"Now, Qrow. Do you want to help the Captain out? I'm sure you won't bite Clover."

Clover knew what that meant immediately and so did Qrow as his eyes widened. Tyrian tightened the belt with a snap, a hand fisted with the leather. Qrow gasped, hands scrambled up to try and ease the tension, unable to dig fingers under the belt. With his other hand Tyrian pushed his captive's face into Clover’s crotch- he could feel the hot, desperate breaths on his precum, making him shudder. Tyrian met Clover’s eyes, expecting. Clover knew what Tyrian wanted him to do. Hating himself, he grabbed salt and pepper locks, closed his eyes and shoved his cock into a mouth gasping for air.

Qrow gagged as Clover felt himself be enveloped in heat, feeling a tongue pushed down his shaft. It did the trick, causing him to shudder and harden. Clover wasn't small, feeling himself deep in the unwilling throat, feeling Qrow desperately trying to breathe, the whimper, the hands not knowing where they wanted to be, trying to push Clover off, trying to grip the belt around his neck to just get air.

But Tyrian loosened the belt, looking satisfied. Clover felt relief as Qrow was able to breath again. “You’re so eager, Captain.”

Qrow found purchase at Clover's hips, nails digging into the white fabric of his pants. He wished he didn't look down to meet watering red eyes and felt Qrow gag like he was about to throw up. He couldn't read the expression, pain, humiliation. Clover shut his eyes tight. Wishing this wasn't happening. He wanted to wait until Qrow's breathing had steadied before continuing, pulling out to the tip.

But he felt a tongue slowly work his head, lips flicking over the tip. It was hot and tight and so,  _ so _ wet as Qrow worked to take him in, inch by inch. He could only imagine what was going through the elder hunters head, that maybe going along with it was easier. He pressed a hand into Qrows cheek, wiping a stray tear away with his thumb. Dreaded eye contact was made between them. He wanted to speak, to tell Qrow they were going to get out of this.

Somehow.

The scorpion had moved his hands to Qrow's hips, giving an experimental thrust without warning. Qrow  _ moaned _ and it felt  _ wonderful _ , he let the feeling wash over him, resisting the urge to buck his hips. Bringing a hand up to cover his mouth, feeling the heat in his face. He didn't want to enjoy this. He had imagined these lips, trailing love marks down his skin, tasting and wanting him. How he had imagined how Qrow's mouth would feel. This was not the right train of thought to be on- but Qrow was good at this. He knew the bird had experience, he had heard of how he was a lady killer and man eater, a long line of broken hearts trailed behind him.

Clover knew of his reputation, yet he still pursued him. Wanting the rush of new passion, wanting the handsome, breath-taking huntsman to look at him the same way he looked at Qrow.

Tyrian slowed his pace, snaking a hand down to Qrow’s neglected cock and worked feverishly. Qrow’s moans caused Clover to shudder and curled forward, biting into his fist to stop a sound. It turned into uncomfortable whining, Qrow slipping away from Clover, gasping, but Tyrian never relented. Clover hadn’t realized that Qrow had come, that he was being quickly pushed into overstimulation as he cried out, legs trembling.

"Please, please  _ Tyrian- _ " he whined, Clover clamped his eyes shut, not letting himself see Qrow- he can feel his hands, imagining how he looked as he pleaded with those deceptively wide eyes. He loved Qrow’s eyes, soft red, he adored surprising the older huntsmen to see how gorgeous he was when he wasn’t frowning.

“Swallow, and I’ll stop.” He said, leaning forward to look at Clover. “It’s not fair that the little bird got to finish and you haven’t, is it?” Tyrian's hands found the leash end of the belt, and gave a mocking pull.

Qrow couldn't continue, not with how overwhelmed he was, the tremble of his shoulders pronouned. If it meant an end to this Clover would stop thinking, he’ll let it feel good and if he was fast enough they would have to endure it much longer. Clover moved his hips, tugging on Qrow’s hair, dragging his mouth back around his cock. The muffled protests drowned out by Tyrian beginning to quicken his pace, the scorpion's own moans filling the room.

He felt Qrow claw at his hips, but he didn't relent until the heat inside him boiled and he was nearly bent over as he came, still pulling on Qrow's hair, filling his mouth. Qrow came away with a pop, and was unable to swallow it all, panting, Clover's release dripping from his mouth as he hung his head, crying louder at the cock still pounding him.

Clover dropped to his knees. "It's okay, it's okay." Qrow held his shoulders, Clover could feel every harsh rut as Qrow tried to stay on his knees. He knows his words won't help but he speaks them anyway. Maybe he was talking to himself more, convincing himself what he just did was okay.

"Tyrian." Qrow said brokenly. "I- I did what you wanted,  _ please-" _

He hated how Qrow's begging made him twitch even if he was spent. Tyrian pulled out, his violet cock throbbing as he released all over Qrow’s backside.

Moments passed as the scorpion caught his breath, Qrow collapsed against Clover, barely able to keep himself up as he panted for breath.

"Such a good boy." Tyrian cooed, running a near loving hand down Qrow's thigh. Clover glared at the hand that dared to touch Qrow again. Qrow did nothing, too tired, too spent to move. "What do we say?"

Qrow doesn't speak for a moment before relenting. "Thank you." He said numbly, monotone.

"And what do you say to the captain?" He continued, pulling on the belt around his neck, lightly, to bring Qrow up to him. A hand on his chin forced him to look up at Clover. His face twists into one of shame and acceptance, and Clover wants to die.

"Thank you, Clover."

Tyrian slips the belt away and stands, tucking himself back in his pants, barely glancing at Qrow and the mess he left him, yellow eyes staring right at Clover.  “Well, so ends my interrogation for the night. Make yourself comfortable, captain.”

The moment the door closed, the heavy lock coming into place Qrow collapsed completely.

"Qrow, Qrow I'm sorry." Clover moved to touch him, some kind of comfort he can give to the man that's been going through hell- but retracted it before he could make contact with pale skin. Qrow closed the gap, holding on, near digging fingernails into his shoulders at how tightly he clinged to the atlesian. 

He looked up, staring, looking so much more composed then he did mere moments ago.  _Ozpin's training_. He thinks to himself. He doesn't want to think about it.

"You can't help what your body does. The guilt will drive you mad. Just don't say shit." Qrow growled, voice rough and he coughed hard, Clover helped him to a sitting position, pushing him upright to clear his airways. "It's going to get worse, Cloves."

It’s not forgiveness, he doesn't deserve it nor did he expect it. 

Clover grabbed his shirt to help clean Qrow up. He's finally stopped trembling, but the cold concrete seeped into his flesh. He does his best, taking the abandoned sheet on the ground and wrapping him up, Qrow winced at the touch of his legs.

"Can you use your aura?" Clover asked, was he spent completely? He wasn't sure, but Qrow's body spoke of days of abuse.

"If I heal up, the next time will be worse." He murmured. "Got to pick the battles worth fighting."

He finds a question on the tip of his tongue he's not sure he wants answered. "How many times has he...?"

He asked how many times, not if he was okay, but how many times the scorpion had defiled him like he was used goods. He wished he didn't speak.

"Three, three the first day. He sort of went all out then. Two the next, then one. Then again just now."

Clover tried not to look so closely into the number 7. Qrow's eyes flicker, looking exhausted.

"I got you, you can rest." He wanted to hold him and protect him. He doesn't know what he'll do when Tyrian comes back.

"People will notice you gone. Someone will find us." Qrow said, eyes closed. The guilt came crashing back.  Three days. 7 times. They _did_ notice but chose to do nothing for at least a day, when he was here.

**Author's Note:**

> Unfairgame? Perfect name.
> 
> I promise Scorpion murder. Eventually.


End file.
